


hurts at first but it ain't that bad

by sayonide



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Pre-Canon, Vague Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus, physical and emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayonide/pseuds/sayonide
Summary: The first time he hit her, she was 13.It wasn't his fault, she told herself. He was mad, and stressed, and it wasn't his fault that she just couldn't be good.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	hurts at first but it ain't that bad

**Author's Note:**

> if you're not the type to read tags (which uh. why)
> 
> read them through

The first time he hit her, she was 13.

She'd stumbled into his tent after a small group of faunus storeowners had left it, intent on telling him about how fast she'd finished her training, and excited to get him to cash in the practice-fight he'd promised her the day before. When she stepped inside, though, and hit the middle of the room, she called out for him, and he turned around with a piece of paper in hand. 

When she waved, though, his brows furrowed before a scowl slid into place on his face. Nervous, she lowered the hand and moved to get out of his way.

Not fast enough.

It was a clean backhand, his hand striking against the side of her head, and the first thing that went through her mind was that _well, dad would never have done that_.

Even in her head, the thought was quiet, not daring to penetrate the silence that had fallen between them. But... There was nothing to fear. Right?

Before she could say anything, or turn around and leave, or whatever she was going to do - he visibly stiffened and reached out to press a hand against her cheek. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured, smooth as always. If not for the careful warmth against her face, she wouldn't have known anything was different. Maybe it should have worried her, his lack of reaction afterwards, but she was 13 years old and was still adjusting after running away from her parents, and any semblance of normal was good enough. 

"I was just frustrated," he soothed. "I didn't mean to take it out on you, you just walked in at the wrong time. I don't like it when people see me like that, Blake, I'm so sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

She looked up at him, hesitant, but saw nothing but sincerity in his wide blue eye, and relaxed against his hand. 

"S'alright," she sighed. "I just wanted to ask if you wanted to spar today."

His smile was tense, but it was the first time, and so she hadn't learned how to cower yet. "Sorry," he repeated. "I've got to go track down those guys again, found a flaw in the contract. Tomorrow?"

Blake bobbed her head and let him give her cheek another pat before pulling away. 

"You promise?" She called as he walked out.

"Of course," he returned, his back facing the inside of the tent, and the mask pressed up to hide his eyes. "And you know I don't break promises."

* * *

Just before her 14th birthday, he broke this one. 

The fact of the matter was that her injuries just _weren't that bad_. At least, not compared to some others, who desperately needed medical attention. It was just a few scrapes, a bruise here and there, and she'd had so much worse just playing with Ilia back on Menagerie that it really wasn't as important as the guy with broken glass all over his upper body. 

Apparently, _he_ didn't feel the same way.

"It's not your place to tell me what to do," he growled, and for whatever reason, she rolled her eyes and pushed back. 

"It's just a few scrapes!" She protested, and his fist clenched shut around her arm as he dragged her, wordlessly, towards the pile of medical supplies. "I don't need it! Just let me g-"

She was cut off with a stinging across her face, and stared in surprise at his backside as he dragged her the rest of the way over. He shoved her down onto the rock, silent, and gripped her shoulder as she hissed at the wet swab pressed against her arm. A few moments later, he sighed.

"You have to take care of yourself," he lectured. "I wouldn't have done that if you had just listened to me. _A few scrapes and bruises_ are enough to warrant concern!"

She grumbled and looked away, only to have her chin grabbed and jerked back around to look at him directly. "You're one of the youngest in this camp," he said. "We can't afford to have you hurt."

_But you hurt me_ , she wanted to say back, but thought better of it. After all, he was right, wasn't he? She _was_ one of the youngest. As the Fang grew and aged, she'd have to take over someday. He _was right_. 

So she just lowered her head. "Yeah. M'sorry I was being difficult," she mumbled, and his grip softened to stroke her reddened cheek.

"It's alright. Just don't do it again."

* * *

The tenth time he hurt her she was 15. He didn't do it _often_ \-- just when she was being annoying, or wouldn't listen, or doing something she wasn't supposed to, or just when he didn't like what she was doing -- and it wasn't like it was very bad, especially to someone with aura. A light whack here and there, a grip on her wrist to hold her still.

But, well, the punishment had to fit the crime. And sneaking out of the tent to wander in the middle of the night? That was one hell of a crime.

When she ran back to the camp at the crack of dawn, as if she could outrun the sun itself, he was sitting at the empty firepit, chin resting on his hands.

"So," he started, almost pleasantly. "You weren't in the tent when I woke up."

She shifted back and forth on her feet and shrugged. "I woke up early, and just wanted to go out, help out with the patrols."

Blake was close to mentally giving herself a thumbs up and a pat on the back for the easy lie, when he raised an eyebrow and leaned back. 

"Is that right? So why were they all here and accounted for, a whole ten minutes ago?"

She glanced around the camp as much as she dared -- he _hated_ it when people didn't look him in the eye -- and realized it was true. Everyone who she could've used as an alibi, everyone who could've covered for her, were all sitting in the camp somewhere. There was nothing to do except apologize, and hope that nothing bad happened to her.

"I was going to be back by sunrise."

He clicked his tongue, face still in that almost-smile position. "But, Blake, don't you understand? That's not the problem here. The _problem_ is that you thought you could leave in the first place." 

Blake stood there to think for a moment, but right as she opened her mouth, he continued. 

"The problem here is that you thought you were _allowed_ to leave."

She gulped down whatever she was about to say before starting, slowly. "Could I... Ask permission to? Now?"

The smile broke, finally, and spread across his face. He stood up, walked towards her, and she couldn't even find it in herself to laugh at his dramatics. "What do you think you deserve?" He asked. "After all, you disobeyed _so many_ direct orders. Do you remember what I told the camp yesterday?"

It was almost sadistic, the way he watched her squirm before answering his own question. "No one outside the base without orders. No one outside their tents before 6:30. Did you think that the rules didn't apply to you? Did you think that I'd just turn around and pretend not to see when you break the rules?"

"I just wanted to take a wal-"

She was cut off with nails, digging into her bicep. 

"You _just wanted to take a walk_? You thought that you were above the rules, didn't you? That's not how these things work," he growled, and the hand on her arm pulled her in closer, his face screwing up into anger. 

His grip got tighter and tighter, and she knew there was going to be indents there, a bruise, and it just got tighter until she eventually whimpered. 

"Please," she wheezed. "You're hurting me, let go-"

"I'm hurting you?"

His voice was low, dangerously so, but his grip just got tighter and she was too buried under a haze of pain to remember how to play it safe.

"Yes. _Please._ "

He leaned in further, face inches away from hers. "How do you think it felt to wake up and see you missing?" he practically whispered. "To get up and not see you anywhere in the camp?"

She whined and leaned away as much as she could. "I'm sorry! I'll stay in camp from now on, I promise."

It was like she'd flipped a switch. He stared at her for another second, nodded, and leaned back, the twisted expression disappearing in place of a soft smile. When he let go of her arm, the pressure relieving into a sharp sting, she winced and grabbed at it with her other hand.

After a pause, he wrapped his hand around hers, gentle, as if the last five minutes hadn't happened. "I wish I didn't have to do that either," he said, soft, his hand lightly squeezing hers. "If you just listened to me... We wouldn't be here if you were good, Blake." 

His eye glanced up to hers from where it had been resting on her, as if he were nervous. "I'm doing my best, to just keep everyone safe. That's all I want. For everyone to be safe. After all, you know what it's like for faunus outside of the White Fang around these places, don't you?"

His words sent a shudder of fear through her, and he was _right_. As always. He was _always_ right, after all. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'll stay inside, you don't need to worry about me."

He stood up and nodded, again, gaze lingering even as he turned to leave her to her daily chores. It was a warning, and it stuck with her for the rest of the day. 

It shouldn't unsettle her, she told herself. He was just looking out for them. 

If she hadn't been so reckless, and just _listened_ to him, he wouldn't have had to react like that. He wouldn't have had to be so worried about her.

* * *

"Why can't you just _take care of yourself?_ " 

She stifled a whimper at his tone, pressing back into the side of his tent. "I couldn't- there were so many, you saw them too, there were _so many of them-_ "

A hand came up and grabbed her under the chin, in that same familiar position, and she wondered, briefly, how many times she'd been there. Bruises on her skin, breath stuck in her throat, his hand on her neck. Enough for him to learn exactly where to press, at the very least.

"Do you know what I saw when I turned around?" he growled, and when she opened her mouth she let out a small, fearful noise. " _Do you_?" 

His hand shoved her back further, and she whined, flopping her head to the side in hopes that _maybe_ it looked close enough to a confirmation for him to just keep talking and let her go. 

"I saw you _cowering_ ," he hissed. "Sitting under that human's sword, Blake, I trained you to _avoid_ this."

She flinched away, but -- well, it's hard to avoid someone who had her by the neck, and it was all she could do to curl in and protect her head as he tossed her down. 

"I'm sorry," she croaked out, and he took a moment to crack his knuckles, shake out his arms, before turning back to her. 

"I wish you wouldn't make me have to do this," he said, and her stomach curdled at how sweet it was. 

You didn't _have_ to, she wanted to protest, but did he? Because she was 16 now, it'd been 12 years, and he still had to correct her. Still had to fix the things she fucked up and clean up her messes, and if nothing else worked then why _not_ resort to force? 

So she pushed herself up to sit in front of him, rubbed her throat, and whispered, again. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, before bending down in front of her to press a hand on her shoulder, on what she _knew_ would become a bruise by the next day. "You know I love you, right?" 

She nodded, stiff, and he squeezed the bruise again with a soft smile. A _loving_ smile, her subconsciousness interjected, and she let it press her cheek into the back of his hand.

"I don't enjoy hurting you," he reminded her. 

"I know," she mumbled back. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

* * *

Ilia pulled her aside as they walked, casting a nervous glance to the front, where he chatted with some of the local faunus. When he kept walking after a few beats, she leaned over and hissed, "you need to get out of here. Soon."

Blake just blinked, tilted her head. "But... Why?"

"W-what?"

It came out in a whisper, and Blake shrugged in response. "I left Menagerie years ago," she explained. "I don't even know how to get back there if I wanted to, anyway. There's nothing here except the White Fang for me, and... If I'm good, then he's nice, you know? So I just have to be good."

She ignored the way that Ilia stared at her in horror to shoot her a reassuring smile. 

"Blake-"

"I'm alright at being good," she rushed out. "I swear, I know how to keep him happy, and out of everywhere I could end up being, the White Fang is a pretty good option, so I'm happy to stay here, really."

Ilia continued staring at her, before shaking her head. 

"I'm going on a raid next weekend with him. It won't be unreasonable for you to come send us off, especially with the type of protection the SDC trains have. When we leave, _run_."

* * *

She was wary of the plan, and- why would a place like _Beacon_ accept someone like _her?_ She couldn't behave, couldn't just do what she was told, kept putting people in danger, and any proper academy would balk at her criminal record. Ilia was insistent, though, and if things went wrong she'd just live out on the streets of Vale, like he always threatened she would end up. There wasn't any true harm in trying, so they planned.

But the second last time he hurt her, he did it through Ilia. Held her up in that familiar position, back turned to the tent flap where Blake was watching. 

"You're a horrible influence, did you know that?" He asked, almost casual. "I wonder what kind of injury could keep you down. Something that would take your aura... A _little while_ to heal. Where does your plan go, if Blake's with me all day?"

Ilia let out a soft growl, and he pulled her away from the wall to throw her onto the ground. "We can't have our second-best scout _completely_ out of commission," he mused with a kick to her chest, and Blake flinched away from the noise that came out of her. 

"Maybe I'll just make you unable to speak. Do you think a broken rib does that? I remember once, when Blake got one." With a firm nod to himself, he drew his leg back again, and she couldn't watch it. Couldn't watch as her only friend suffered because she just refused to be good.

* * *

The last time he hit her was the day they attacked the train. 

Afterwards, he grabbed her arm before they jumped on and pulled her back to meet his eye. 

"I'm sorry I blew up at you just now," he said, eye darting between her two. "It wasn't your fault that Ilia fucked up, and I can't excuse taking it out on you."

Blake just shrugged and gave him a smile. "It's alright," she lied, with a hand pressed onto his. "I encouraged her train of thought, it wasn't right to let that continue." 

He stared at her for a long moment, and she briefly wondered if he could tell -- if he could somehow _know_ what she was planning -- before his thumb stroked her shoulder and he nodded. 

* * *

It wasn't safe for her to be there. Not for the other faunus, who were all so much better at listening to instructions, and not for Ilia, who would be out on the raid and safe if it weren't for Blake.

So she waited. Waited for him to turn his back on her, outside of the main area, and the second he did, she ran for it. 

The hurried path took her leaping over the gap between train carts, shoving out a shadow to make the final few feet before she turned to cut the connection. When she turned, though, she met his eye through the white mask and swallowed down the fear that yelled at her to _turn back, he's going to be pissed, turn back you're in trouble just go back to him_ to push out, as calm as possible, "Goodbye, Adam."

He shot out a hand like it could do more than make her flinch, with their new distance, and the second that the cart disappeared behind the trees, she dropped down onto the flooring.

Fuck.

Where was she going to go? Where would ever accept her?

Shaking, she curled into herself, hoped like hell that he wouldn't know where to find her, and let the reality of what she'd done come crushing down.

**Author's Note:**

> holidays can be awesome. they can also be the shittiest time of the year. if all you did was stay alive, you're doing incredible.
> 
> 1) i was gonna upload this on christmas and then decided No Let's Not   
> 2) if i messed up rating/forgot a tag j tell me and ill add


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